Feminine Sensibilities
by Arsenic Kisses
Summary: What if Erik was a woman?
1. Home without a Heart

Greetings Phantom Phans. So, this is a gender swap, but only for Erik ( add and 'a' to the end of that from now on, dear reader). Everyone else will remain as they were. This fic is pretty original, but some elements of Kay have been adopted. Please enjoy :)

Disclaimer: The following characters are being borrowed for the sake of sanity. Thank Ye :)

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Since my youth, the women of high society always held a certain enigmatic air. These ladies, with curls piled high atop heads with noses held higher by snobbery, they always made me wonder. They were gorgeous, these women. They'd swirl about the floor in a flurry of skirts with upstanding gentlemen to the most fashionable waltzes. It is not a mystery to me now why I didn't gander at the men, but at the time I wondered why the women held my attention and made it linger far more than it should. Perhaps it was my ravaged face, I would ponder. Maybe I despised the fact that they could flounce about with the gaiety only their kind could afford, while I, the daughter and only child to my upper class parents, had to watch with far less enthusiasm at the top of the stair.

Or maybe, I'd whisper, it was the fact that they were able to socialize. I could never afford that, or rather that my parents couldn't. My mother, Antoinette, she told me that I wasn't allowed to join in on the fun until I grew out of my awkward stage. Yes, my malformed lips, lack of a nose, and the skeletal shape I had always known as my own- an awkward stage. Really, mother? I can't imagine how she must have felt, seeing that zombie child and realizing it was indeed the fruit of her womb. Her little girl, an un-dead creature.

Papa refused to acknowledge me. Unless I dared to call upon him as such. A thrashing was what preceded that kind of insinuation. Any kind of inkling that I was partly his. His name was Laurent. I recall it only because Mama would screech it when he boxed my ears and he seemed to respond. He was a handsome fellow. Maybe my father with his obtuse fury, taught me that men were to be observed and treated with caution and veiled disdain.

I believe my mother was the only one to show me even the slightest bit of pity. Total seclusion was making me the most unbearable of children, so my mother came up with a plan to satisfy both my lonesome boredom and her wish to play dress up with the angel child she never had. Mama often held masquerades and I was permitted to attend as long as Papa didn't know of it.

" Erika stay silent and stay hidden. Talk to no one and watch out for your father. Here."

Every party she would hand me a new outfit. I was always something over decorated and coquettish. I, the monarch butterfly or the not- so- bashful Bopeep. The costumes were confectionary pastries of pink candy bows and green icing ribbons atop butter cream taffeta. A walking fruit tart. It didn't matter though, I was amongst the living. They were so warm, these people. The women, with their swelling bosoms and beaded gowns trimmed with delicate lace. I loved them. They smelled of lavender and roses. They giggled shrilly as men tickled their necks with combed goatees. My mother, always the center of attention, eyeing me with caution.

Everything was well until I met her.

Her name was Cecile.

She was the one who made it clear to me that I wasn't one for courting males. Not that males would want to court me. Cecile was a girl of fourteen with fetching freckles on her nose and beautiful pouting lips. I was thirteen at the time, and was well into the habit of avoiding people at masquerades. This evening, I was quaffed up in the fashion of a peacock. My hair, of which I had plenty, was twirled into coils of gold and cascaded down my back. A peacocks mask covered the majority of my face and my corset pushed my barely budding breasts up near my throat. I had gone into the salon to avoid my father. He had grown suspicious over the last few months, ever since he had seen Mama bringing home dresses that seemed far to small for her. It was for that reason that I was a peacock this night instead of the planned archangel.

I had settled myself at the harp and plucked it's strings absently. I was proficient at many, if not all instruments, but the harp was the only one available in the room. I sang softly to myself and strummed delicately along with my voice. I was so consumed by singing, I didn't notice the girl at my side until she whimpered behind her hand. I jumped so high in shock that she stopped her tears instantly and tittered in my expense.

" I beg pardon, Mademoiselle. I didn't mean to make you cry." I said, straightening my back and bowing. She giggled now and lifted my chin up so I would face her.

" You act like a gentleman, silly goose. Come up here and let us converse normally." I straightened up instantaneously and she sat me next to her on the straight-backed couch.

" My name is Cecile. What is your name, Mademoiselle _Garcon_?" It was lucky she couldn't see my flushed cheeks.

" Erika..."

" Erika, you have a most superb voice! It reduced me to tears." So strange she was. She was a minuet copy of the beautiful women I had come to be so throughly engrossed in. She cooled herself with the red brocaded fan in her hand. She herself was dressed as angel of a more seductive breed.

" I find these parties of masques particularly daunting, don't you?"

" Daunting? In what sense, Mademoiselle?"

" Erika, don't you find it intimidating to say, involve yourself with a gentleman on a semi- personal level when the whole night he keeps up the farce of say a demon or Hades?"

" I don't see how that is daunting, considering that you yourself will be flirting without shame behind the face of the Snow Queen or that of the Goddess Aphrodite." Cecile laughed softly at this behind her mask, a simple veil with golden stars branching off the eyes. It covered only the top half of her face and left me staring without knowing at her full lips, distinctly rouged a deep red.

" How old are you?" questioned Cecile as a laughing couple danced by the slightly parted salon curtains, spilling champagne on the carpet. I pressed my lips in distaste before answering.

" Thirteen."

" A year younger than myself. Your manner of speaking and care of words make you seem older. Not to mention the beauty of your voice! My word, who is your voice instructor? I must ask your maestro to tutor me!"

" I have no voice instructor. I am not privileged."

" Not privileged? You are from a high bred family, are you not, Erika?"

" Oh, I am" I hastily replied, " But my parents don't favor me much." Cecile crinkled her nose in distaste at the very thought.

" They do not favor you? That sounds cruel, to say nothing but the least! Why on earth would they not favor their own child?" I pressed my lips again, making them drain of color. I would often do that when I grew nervous as a child. Sometimes I catch myself doing it still.

" Because I am a monster with a face that God himself finds perverse. Don't scoff, mademoiselle. It's quite true. Now, I beg to be excused so that I may retire to my room."

" You're Madame Antoinette's daughter?!_ Pardon-moi_, but I feel that I must see your face. You must be trying to push me away, as you do others. Your parents say you are viciously anti-social."

" Do they?!" I rounded on her bitterly, my words seething with hate. " Mademoiselle, I am far from it! I crave for human touch! I wish just once I could dance with someone and not fear their reaction to my face! I am repulsive, horrifying, un-dead, ugly- if you please! Just a monster!"Cecile took me into her arms then, soothing me with the gentle rhythm of her breathing.

" I believe you're beautiful under that mask, dearest little nightingale. Sing again, for me?"

I felt that I should oblige, for she coaxed my ungovernable temper into repose. Positioning myself once again at the harp, I plucked the strings into a flighty melody for Cecile. Her expression went slack, the sparkle in her eyes became so muted she appeared dazed. I sang for a while, trying to supply myself with some peace of mind while she sat without uttering a word.

Just as my mother, my father, and myself feared so greatly, my face was revealed. It is still so vivid. Cecile stood and made her way toward me. She moved like an automation, her joints stiff as she leaned forward to caress my cheek. And then, for the first time in my life, I felt betrayal. She tore away my safeguard. By removing my mask, she removed all of the manners my mother ingrained so painstakingly into me. She stripped me of pride, and of most of the hope I had acquired at that point.

No one would have known if I had just clamped my hand over her mouth until she grew tired of it, but I myself was paralyzed. What a sound! Her screams seemed to halt the party so abruptly, it was almost as if they had been anticipating it. The guests crowed into the boudoir, reaction after reaction bombarding me. Then they stepped forward. My father, dressed at the King of Thieves, bore his hatred with such an igneous glare, I feared my heart might combust. Mama clamped her fingers so fiercely in her skirts, I could feel the blows she wanted to inflict upon my face.

I cared so very little what my father desired. He never loved me, so why should I give a fuck what he thought or what he wanted to do to me. It was Antoinette, my frail golden haired mother. Her sea- saw of love and hate toward me was the only comfort I found. She at least showed some love in her denial.

" Who is that?"

" The devil himself"

" But it is a little girl!"

" Who's child is that?

My father grabbed me by my hair. I was sobbing so irrationally, that he slapped my tainted cheeks to knock some sense into me.

" Laurent, wait!" Antoinette cried, her hair fluttering behind her as she dashed for my rescue.

" Antoinette, it ends tonight! This child has been a leech on my income, my happiness and my sanity. Don't you see she has made you ill as well?" My mother's perfect brown eyes stared intently at my father.

" Erika..." My mother said with a dazed echo. I feared she would do what she did next.

" Mama?" I asked meekly. She moved forward, her expression an enigma. The assembly of the upper class watched on. Even little Cecile, her tears not so fetching now as they were mere minutes ago. My mother gripped my wrist with one hand, her nails puncturing the tender flesh. I winced slightly as she leaned in to whisper to me.

" You are not my child. You are the spawn of hell itself. Now, get out." She shot a glace up to Laurent and he began to drag me out of the house by my hair.

" Mama, Mama...MAMA!!!" She stood stock still, her head turned away in disgust. I'll never forget her face, not for as long as I live. My father opened our front door and threw me down the stone steps, a tumbling wreck of curls and petticoats.

" I never want to see your face again, though I'm sure it will haunt me for the rest of my days."

My nose, or what existed of it, bled as I raised my head off the stone path. I know my tears betrayed me then.

" Papa, please..." I whimpered. The door slammed without a qualm and grimaced at me with foreboding. The party seemed to grow steadily back to it's former level of joviality and people dance past the window. Slowly, I raised myself onto my feet and walked away from the house I had considered home.

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Chapter one est finis! C'est tres mal, n'est pas? Don't fret, I've got another chapter on the way. Please let me know how you liked it :)

Love,

DeMuerte


	2. The Undead Child

Chapter 2 est ici! I hope everyone enjoyed the first chapter but if you're just joining in, welcome :) So, Now Erika is going to meet the gypsies. What will happen?

Disclaimer: Still no ownership. Unenthusiastic yay.

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I walked for days. I had abandoned my party slippers long ago and my green stockings were soaked with melted snow and blood. A disheveled bird of grandeur, I was amazed that if I had been seen, no one screamed.

The hunger was growing so steadily in my stomach that I knew it was going to swallow me whole very soon and I would die, a wounded beast in the frozen countryside of France. The events of the night that ruined my old life played over and over in my head. Antoinette's final words to me were nothing I could have ever imagined.

No pity from my father but that was no surprise. But that mass of hair, the color of Heaven's gates, turning away in disgust haunted me to no end. Frustrated, I plopped mt weary body down at the base of a large tree. Under it's branches where little snow had fallen, I curled up tightly and proclaimed it my makeshift grave.

I knew that I couldn't dwell on the horrors that had happened. If they did not want me, then I would shun them. They will be much happier if they forget me, I thought. But, where would that leave me? Frozen to death in the snow?I think not! I knew I couldn't die there. But a nap was well deserved. I shut my eyes in grateful exhaustion, planning on mapping out my future when I was well rested.

When I awoke, I wasn't beneath the canopy of branches I had fallen asleep under. I was in a place far colder than the winter ground.

_A_ _cage!_

The bars were rusting but strong and gripping them would have cause my hands to smart without stopping. As I regarded my form, I was shackled by the wrists and the neck. Escape was an obvious impossibility as I tried to pull hard on the neck restraint. It pained my vocal cords to move so I gave up calling for help.

" So, yer awake are yeh?" came a voice as coarse as unpolished sandstone. I nodded dumbly. The voice's owner was a portly man, leaning backward in a chair. He was clothed with the finest gypsy attire. His large black beard collected crumbs from his last couple of meals and his face was hard as it stared at me.

" If yer wonderin' about the extra measures I took for yer _safe keeping_, I'll explain. The wrist shackles are for yer beastly conduct when I saved yer life. And the metal collar is so yeh won' try an' bewitch me with yer voice again. It's one o' my favorite devices and it does a magic trick." He sauntered over to the cage and unlatched the lock. My prison was set upon wheels, so he didn't have to bend down to met me eye to eye. His meaty fingers touched my collar, stroking it with affection.

" It's trick is that if you even dare the scream, you'll cease to exist. So, my little corpse, don't go trying anything stupid, or yer miserable little life will end faster than you can say " The Undead Child" Tha's yer stage name, " The Undead Child". You'll be bringin' in money far faster than my last oddity. Now, sleep. You have a show tonight." The gypsy walked away, pausing for an instant at the cage to the left mine. He muttered something and spit in-between the bars before sauntering out of the tent.

" You're dress is lovely." came two voices from my right. Out of the gloom, twin girls that shared the same pair of legs moved forward to greet me. I nodded my head in acknowledgment for their compliment and the twins smiled.

" My name is Serenity." whispered the one on the right.

" I am Seethe."said the one to the left.

" They are not our real names, but we have to pretend or else we don't eat." they commented in unison. I'm sure I looked frighted, but they only smiled softly at me before sitting down so they could converse.

" Were you born with that?" inquired Serenity, pointing to my face. I touched it, realizing my mask had been abandoned when I was left for dead. I nodded without emotion, wishing for something to hide my monstrous visage. I knew that there was no point if you're a freak in a cage to hide what put you there, so I stopped wishing as soon as I had started.

" You must have a voice worth the jealousy of angels if he made you wear the metal collar," stated Seethe as her sole arm touched her neck absently, " I had to wear it once, but only because I was talking of escape. Believe me, after one day with that on, you don't think of escape again. A piece of advice I can give you is to chew your food until it's nothing but mush. It's the only way you can swallow. It will become habit, you'll see." Serenity patted her sister's head before turning to look at me.

" You should sleep. Javert is your master now too and you must do as he says." The sisters moved to the bed of hay in their cage and lay down for their own nap.

I was in Hell. Unable to speak, hardly able to breathe and tethered like beast by a master that was far from kind, I was in the sulfurous pits of the Devil's plsyground. I began to pick the dirt out from under my nails, sniffling and trying not to cry because I knew it would suffocate me.

" You look like you haven't slept in days. Neither have I... I'm Tobias." Out of the shadows came a young boy with blonde fur sprouting from every pore, like a wolf. Even his nose was snout-like and his nails were yellow and long, like claws.

"Erika" I mouthed, my lips not doing the job they should for he replied,

" I'm used to it. How about you, how are you holding up?" I lowered my head down and drew my knees up for it to rest on.

" I see..." I looked at my hands, wondering what my future held. My eyes then strayed, formulating the idea to communicate with bits of straw. I only prayed then that Toby knew how to read. Looking up at him every so often, searching for any sign of comprehension. I was relieved that he was French, or at least fluent in the language, for his eyebrows perked up in recognition.

" How do I get this thing off?" he repeated aloud, and I pointed frantically to the metallic collar. Toby frowned.

" Oh, I'm not sure. I've never worn it before and it looks like it doesn't have a lock." I sighed, my voice lying dormant. I swept up the words I had written before and began to spell out another message.

" I-am-" he read stiltedly, " Erika. A-true-pleasure- Tobias. " I heard a redundant thumping sound as he smiled at me, realizing that if he was boy with lupine traits, it could be possible to have an extended tail bone.

A tail.

I grinned as wide as I could, beginning to stomach my surroundings and the people I was next to. However, my mind was still formulating all manners of escape. But I needed time. Strategy was, and will always be key to any escape from a foul situation. Even spontaneous situations called for spontaneous strategy.

" You really should sleep." he said, reaching through the bars to brush my hair back. I jumped, making him whimper in the pit of his throat. To repair the unintentional damage, I stretched my own hand as far as the chains would allow to touch him. He reached out his own and we laced fingers. In a sense, he was my very first friend. This strange boy was all I had ever know when it came to compassion in it's purest form. We smiled at each other the same hopeless smile before laying ourselves down for much needed sleep.

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More of gypsy life next time :)

Much love,

DeMuerte


	3. No One's Whore

Chapter 3 is here and ready for viewing :) Please enjoy :)

Disclaimer: If they were mine, I'd be famous. But I'm not, so they aren't.

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"Come in, if ye dare. Shyness will only warrant a fainting spell. Though she smells like that of roses, be fooled not. The child inside was found in the cemeteries of Transylvania, walking about as if she were alive! Come in, ye worthy patrons all, and glut your eyes with The Undead Child!"

Javert was a showman. He could work a crowd. I learned such a fact on that night. My first performance.

In my tent, they had created a setting so ornate that it was on the verge of being excessively camp. A graveyard of sorts had been placed. Closer inspection would have revealed that all the markers were made of wood, but from a distance, it was remarkable that they appeared as stone. In the midst of these faux memorials, lay a coffin. At the time, my mind wanted to believe that they had bought the graceful mahogany box-it's lining of crushed velvet, But I knew they had robbed a grave in a town we had passed on our tour. Disbelief was my protector and my misfortune.

Javert's two assistants, their names I never bothered to learn, dragged me to the tent in a drowsy stupor. I had slept most of that day away and upon awaking, I did not like what I saw. The taller of the two, pried up the coffin lid and with his beady little bird eyes, took in my form. The other, whilst gripping my arm as if he were restraining the Cerberus, made a snort and told the other to stop gawking else Javert charge them for the pleasure. They then thrust me into the enclosed space, throwing chains over my body. Thankfully, they left the lid off.

"You'd do well not teh squirm when Master comes in to inspect yeh before the show." Said the lanky one. I sneered and huffed air through my nose, trying to look intimidating. But it merely tickled their decaying funny bones as they tittered and guffawed their way out. I struggled and squirmed, unsure of what chaining me was to accomplish. But no matter what I thought, it was done. Half an hour passed, as Javert finally sauntered in with Tobias on a leash. The boy put up no protest, merely standing beside the goliath ne'r do well.

" Chained up all pretty, are we my pet?" he asked. I stared at him, eyes unwavering. He leaned in close; the rum on his breath was sickening.

" What pretty golden eyes yev got." he mused, sniffling, " Bout the best thing about yer face. Body ain't bad." Tobias whined and Javert pulled on the leash horridly.

" Sit boy." he commanded with grim laughter. Toby settled back onto his haunches, still looking at me with regret. Javert circled around me, a rotund vulture waiting to land on it's prey. I knew then that I must kill this man or become his sex slave for the rest of my life. But, I needed to be cunning, for the nature of my captivity made it an impossibility. I gestured weakly to my throat and pleaded with my eyes. Javert ceased his perverted thoughts and eyed my face once again.

" What? Yeh want yer collar off? What kind of fool do yeh take me fer?" I tried to communicate through mouthing, but Javert was rearing back his fist to deliver a shattering blow.

" Master no!" Tobias barked, wrapping his upper body around Javert's arm. The man threw him backward, letting the collar stop his flight in a near neck-shattering experience.

" I'll tell yeh when to speak, boy!" roared the cumbersome gypsy, his bow-legged stance wide and horrifying. Tobias growled.

" You should give her a chance, Master. As you always say, a compliant freak is a productive freak." Tobias was a smart boy, but I never gave him credit for it. Our entire friendship was based upon this moment, when he saved my life. And I, as the stubborn creature I am, never had the courage to thank him.

" Oh?" Javert mused, taking the boy's words to heart. I made no motion either way, trying my hardest to look docile. The surly man snorted deeply and spat on the ground.

" Toby, meh boy, if yer not right about this, you'll be whipped fer it." warned Javert, to which the golden wolf boy nodded without a sound. Letting go of Toby, he reached behind my neck and fiddled a bit. The release of the collar was like the weight of the Cross upon the shoulders of Jesus being lifted. I worried that I too would be crucified soon.

" Speak, Undead Child." commanded the looming gypsy. I swashed some saliva about my mouth and down my throat. Tobias eyed me with expectancy and fear.

Javert squirmed, "Well, girl?!"

" What is- your wish, Master?" I said with a slight rasp.

The act was a hard pill to swallow, as I was meant to dance and sing behind a mask. And at the end, to rip it off and wail like a risen cadaver out for blood. I watched as the people shuffled in through a small hole in the side of the coffin. Men looked nervous with wonder, as women tittered at an ' obvious ruse'. If they only knew the truth behind Javert's lies: my face was what it was, and even I could not hide that from their eyes and my own heart.

" Dance." he commanded, flicking his fingers at the deathbed. And as I rose, letting notes pour forth, I scanned the audience for children, praying to God that they wouldn't be amongst the thrill seekers. And yet, there were many, and I did as I was commanded, the rage and regret already filling me.

" Now, child of Hades, show them your face!" I hesitated, scanning the faces of expectance and frowned.. Ripping off the decadent mask diagonally, I shrieked out a particularly high note. But amongst the cacophony, it was barely audible. Women fell over their husbands in agonized horror. Children wailed and whined for their mama. I picked up the mask with a numb realization They wanted my face to be something grotesque. That was why they'd all come, to glut themselves with my visage. It pained my heart in a new depth I didn't know it possessed as I left the stage for the macabre comfort of my cage.

I traveled with the show for 5 years, planning an escape. Along the way, I taught myself slight of hand and ventriloquism. By incorporating them into my act, I was less and less of an instantaneous terror and more of a magician who made the coin purses shower love and affection upon her in the form of golden discs. I wouldn't have shown my face at all, but Javert insisted that they all came to see just that and not my "childish trickery." Let him think what he will, money was money and he was glad to have it.

Tobias and I had grown to be comfortable confiding in each other. I've never been the confiding type, therefore Toby did most of the talking. I remember once instance by the river, right before I made my escape.

" You're tent is nicer than mine." Toby laughed, skipping rocks across a brook. It was just before sunset, and we were watching the sun through a pack of pine trees. Toby's fur was shimmering red and orange.

" I've got Javert by his balls, that's why." I commented evenly, tossing a stone across the lazy currents.

" Erika- please..."I shrugged, looking off to my right. Tobias whined a bit, and I knew he was aching to speak.

" What is it?" I asked softly, my face covered in my favored mask.

" It's just that.... You're always talking of escape and well,- I don't like it here either, but if we have each other, then-"

" Than what? We'll live happily ever after as oddities? Have little deformed, werewolf babies who will bring in more money for _that pig!_ No, Tobias No!!" By then, I was pacing, lips pressed thin, as my woolen trousers catching bits of bramble in the brush. I had come to wear mens clothing, as being a woman was denied by my face. My body was not much better, but the curves were there.

" Erika, I didn't mean to- don't -!" Toby begged, his extended face making him look like a dejected puppy, " Please don't go!" I rounded on him, above the wolf boy like a gargoyle from Hell, hands be-clawed in tension.

" Don't. What?" I spat, my hair a curtain around our heads. Toby gulped, eyes searching mine for something to hold onto. Some form of pity or hope that his mind could wrap around and work with. But none was to be found; I would not give it to him.

" Don't leave. Without you, I'll die..You're the only person who cares about me. Please, Erika." he whimpered, lips trembling. I stood erect and stepped away from him.

" Why can't you escape too? Get up and leave this place like I will. What makes you so Goddamn helpless, Tobias?!" Toby stood up, eyes blazing with sorrowful pain.

" Not everyone is as intelligent as you, Erika." He walked away then, shaking his head and fits in anger. I brushed off the bottom of my pants and headed back to my tent. I had collected few things over the years, and had it all packed away nicely. I had been keeping my things in such a manner for the last three towns we had been to, so not as to arouse suspicion. Yet just as night fell, Javert entered my tent, looking more disgusting than the first day I saw him.

" Hey there, Girly." he rumbled, staggering in like the menace he was. I crossed my arms and frowned.

" Hello, Javert. How are we this evening?"

"_Hungry..."_ He purred, sending an unwilling shiver down my spine. I showed no signs of distress as he bumbled towards me. But inside, my heart was frantically pounding against my sternum for escape. I wondered where my knife had gotten to.

" Fer 5 years, I've waited to touch yeh..._taste yeh_."

" How very sweet of you to wait until I've come of age before you decided to rape me." I sneered, my back arching like a cat. This man, who watched me grow up and exploited my body in many ways was now looking for one more. One last hurrah before I bolted. Tobias must have ratted me out.

" Toby told me about yer plans, darlin' Undead." That selfish little puppy! I swallowed the bile in the back of my throat, " So, I thought to meself, ' she wants to go without a thank you? Without a bit o' gratitude?"

" It seems apologies are in order." I muttered wryly. But just as I had said those words, his girth was upon me and I felt the weight of all the embitterment and suppressed rage overwhelm my mind. My hand found the knife and in an instant, I stabbed him in the gut. He gave a mighty howl of pain and rolled on his side. I unsheathed the knife from his stomach and crawled on top of him. He mouth bubbled with crimson blood. I removed my mask and snarled at him.

" I may be undead, but I am no one's puppet. And no one's whore." then, in a moment of pure fury, I slit his throat from right to left. His body rattled and gurgled on my cot and I felt no remorse.

" Erika...." Came a whimper from the doorway. I turned about and pressed my lips together.

" Traitor." I hissed, my talent at ventriloquism coming in handy as my voice jumped from one lupine ear to the other.

" I'm no traitor! You are!" I grappled him to the floor and held the knife to his jugular. He gulped, nearly nicking his own neck. The curtain of my hair hung down once more and we were secluded.

" Why? Because I refuse to live a life of servitude and sexual submission?"

" You have no where else to go, Erika! You're a freak like me! Deformed! The only place for us is here...please, don't go!"

" For you, and the twins, and everyone else, this may be all there is. But I will be damned if I choose this life for myself." He moved to speak, but I shook violently to reestablish the danger of my presence.

" _Damned!_" With that, I grabbed what little I owned, commandeered Javert's horse, and rode towards nowhere.

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And the End of chapter 3! Please review. I'd like to know what you think :)

DeMuerte


	4. Voyage to Rome & The Home Found There

Yay, another update! I just wanna say thank you to all of those who have been reading. This is my baby, and I'm glad people have wanted to read it.

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine, but the story is. :)

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Traveling will always be the most inconvenient at night, even with an ample lantern. But. It was a necessity to do so. I could not be overly cautious, even in the early days. Though Javert wasn't particularly liked by most everyone within the caravan, I had committed the sin of killing a brother gypsy. And for that, I was to pay. So, cautiously I worked my way through the countryside. Avoiding villages was an unpleasant necessity.

I was growing weary, but any place with people was out of the question. Being a former gypsy, albeit unwillingly, made innkeepers less hospitable. I didn't have much of choice over my garb. I would have stolen from someone or robbed a grave, but I didn't wish to sink lower than I already had. In those times, I still believed in the human soul.

It was a mere month before I had found passage to Italy. I had always adored the thoughts of studying architecture. My father was a Master mason after all, and his boundless books of bridges, reams of sketches, and floods of commissions were a forbidden but accessible pleasure. Nothing was out of my reach, as far I was concerned, and even if my father didn't know it, I had touched, memorized, and cherished each one. Slight of hand was one of my many tricks and if it had noticed a book or two amiss, it was not by my hand._ Surely not._

If I was not obsessing over bridges and arches, I was sifting through Mama's music collection. On my 2nd birthday she gave me her old violin so I would not scream for her attention so often. Even if I loathe my mother, I must always thank her for the gift of music.

After much persuasion to an old gypsy and his family, they agreed to take me to Italy on their boat. Their only request was that I kept to myself throughout the voyage. I was glad of such merciful selfishness. They to themselves and I to my own needs. It has always been better that way.

When we reached Rome, I nearly cried. Not only at the beauty of the city, but the brilliant light of dawn as it crept over her towering monuments of genius. The elderly gypsy spoke little french, but I had become well versed in Romani.

" You have been very quiet." he stoically intoned as I helped him row into shore. This was the first word he had said to me since stepping onto the boat and I was sure he was talking to his eldest daughter, who had been rather seasick and silent for the length of the journey.

" Masked one, I am talking to you." I turned to him, unsure of what to expect.

" Yes, Kàko?" whispered, showing him a great amount of gypsy respect with such an address. His grizzled brows raised in slight surprise as the waves rocked up and down, sending us into a gentle bobbing motion towards shore.

" You have been cast out, yes?"

" Yes, Kàko. I was of the Manùsh people, but not born of them." I explained, drawing the oar up as he did. We were not to row for awhile, I supposed.

" Mmm, I see..."

" Is there something wrong?" The old man shook his head, the gray wisps of hair delicate as gossamer in the breeze.

"Is a shame to be a rròbo" I nodded at him, knowing that my imprisonment was indeed, a shame. He took my hand in his and I had to swallow the need to snatch it back. Kind eyes looked into mine, seeming to see through my mask and through my very being.

" Listen little Raklì, you are going to Rome for what?"

" To study architecture, sir." The old man nodded his head, taking my words into his heart for deep consideration. I was unsure of what he was planning.

" Your life will be hard, Raklì. Your face is not to do you any favors, mmm? You must travel by night always. Carry the Romani inside your blood with you, even if it has been put there through no fault of your own. It will keep you for all time. We gypsies, we survive well." I thanked him graciously, knowing that he had adopted me, a non-Romani, and made me his spiritual responsibility. I wanted to decline, but such a disrespect was unheard of.

One of his grandchildren began to stir and whined of hunger. I took the last piece of bread from my bag and broke it in half for her. She smiled a gape-toothed grin and gnashed it with her tiny molars.

"Many thanks...."

" Erika."

He smiled, and nodded at the oars. We rowed to shore in good time. I assured that I had the gold to pay him for my passage. But, he refused me with a swift hand.

" No, child. Keep what you can and find your freedom now." I nodded at him, bowed low and ran towards the swiftly lightened streets.

" Bye bye, Gazhi!" cried the child with whom I shared my bread. I was not yet the adult she claimed I was, but I waved back none the less. It was a new day, and I had thought that maybe I was.

* * *

Rome was stunning. I had always had perfect vision in the night, so the darkness did not hinder it's beauty at all. Tobias had likened me to a cat more than once. Just another reason, I had always told him, that we would never truly get along.I had not the faintest clue how right I was at the time.

The seething thoughts left me pouting, crouched on a hillside, looking down on some architectural wonder. I had taken to braiding my hair into little pleats, giving me the appearance of a wild woman. The hue of my tresses was getting whiter and whiter from sleeping under the sun each day while the world bustled about me.

I stared into the night sky, too worked up to truly taken in the glories of Rome. It was hard to see the future in the dark, I had come to realize. I had been traveling about for the past month for what? To look but not touch. To need but not to be fulfilled. The bitter vexation of not being able to create what I wanted was all but too frustrating as it lay tartly upon my brain and my tongue.

" What are you doing, child?" came a voice I would soon come to cherish dearly. I turned like a cornered animal, hopping backwards near the edge of the cliff.

" Wait, child! You'll fall!" the gentleman wailed. I eyed him with an predator's wariness, lowering myself from the balls of my feet to the flat position, should I need to run.

" Explain yourself, monsieur. Why do you startle a young woman in the midst of the night; Have you no manners?" The man laughed heartily, settling himself down on his haunches to meet me face to shrouded face.

" I don't know many young women who make a habit of wearing men's clothing and watching the city from hilltops." I pressed my lips thin, still unsure of his intentions. He was handsome enough for an older gentleman and his eyes seemed kind.

" You're French, I see."

" I can speak Italian, signore, if you prefer. I am fluent." He smiled at me still, and I was having the most perturbing feelings.

" No, thank you. French is fine. What is your name?"

" I do not give out my name to complete strangers who bombard me when I simply wish to be alone." I snapped, rising to my grand height of 5 feet and 11 inches. He and I were almost eye to eye. I could tell that he was frightened by my visage, but was doing a magnificent job of hiding it. I would have commended him if his demeanor had been more agreeable and less untrustworthy.

" Very well, I shall leave you alone. But if you are ever in need of shelter, please don't hesitate to find me." He left a slip of paper on the ground before me and sauntered away in satisfied silence. I scoffed at his departure and turned to leave. But, as it has been said about me before, I have always been too curious for my own good.

I turned about on my heel and snatched up the paper. Upon it was the address of a monastery. I knew this because I had passed it not the night before, looking for sustenance. It has a broken hinge on the front door, of which I had looked upon with scrutiny.

I sat pridefully on that hilltop for the rest of the night.

The stars fluttered and smiled down upon my masked face, the warm Mediterranean breezes tickling the exposed skin around my eyes.I pulled off my mask with caution. If anyone happened upon me again, I would surely have to run from the place I had worked to hard to get to. Then, I was enveloped in Nature's embrace. Held tenderly to her breast and told to rest my eyes. Safety was mine at last. I shook my hair out of it's braids, letting it dance among the updrafts that rushed past me like eager children. The crisp, stiffening dirt caked under my nails made me frown as I looked at my lithe hands.

It was time to try again at humanity. I could not give up just yet, I was certain. I rose to me feet, collected what little I had, and replaced my mask.

It was time to live again, not drift like a specter in the night.

Plenty of time for that, I'd realize, in the years to come.

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End of Chapter 4. Please review :)

Much love!

DeMuerte


	5. Sisters of the Divine Peace

Hello everyone! I hope you're well. So, chapter 5 is coming at 'cha. I'm rather happy that this story is going where it is. I'm kind of letting it do what it wants. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm going on a trip with my theatre troupe, so I won't be able to post anything new until next Monday. Hope this update will keep everyone happy until then :)

Disclaimer: No, no, dearies. Not mine :)

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His name was Brother Salvador. And had given me the address of Our Sisters of the Divine Peace, a house of nuns he checked in on from time to time. He was there to greet me as the dawn approached. I was sure I looked positively feral to the sisters, with brambles and twigs lost in my hair. But the Brother reminded them softly of their holy duty and these fearful women ushered me inside without a second thought. When they had found me a spare room to lodge in, the Brother sat me down for a talk.

" The sisters are willing to take care of you, provided you do some chores for them around the grounds." he stated tenderly. I was leering at him quite venomously, and I wouldn't have been surprised if he struck me. But he didn't and I settled down in the silence.

" You don't have to join the sisterhood, though I'm sure that they would like that idea better."

" I'm not the type to hide myself away for eternity." I commented with even tones, only then deciding to set down my bag on the homely night stand. He smiled in great understanding.

" Very well. But as for the agreement I've struck up with the sisters-"

"I'll do it."

" You will?"

" Yes. I'm not a complete monster. Nor am I completely selfish."

" Monster? Young lady, I never said that-"

" It is not the sort of thing that has to be said. Where I am from, it is simply known." He took a moment for thought, looking at my mask as if to memorize it's every detail; the hairline crack at the forehead, the small chip at the bottom of the left eye. I stared right back, unsure if my temper would bubble to a point of overflow. But he moved to speak once more.

" You have a reason for wearing the mask, I suppose...."

" Yes. And I must ask your indulgence that you, nor any of the sisters, ask for it's removal." This was not a moot point. It was a law I set forth with no room to wiggle in. Disobedience was not an option.

" Very well." The friar moved to leave, gathering his Bible and rosary.

" Thank you, Brother Salvador."

" Your welcome, my dear. Sleep well. I'm sure you've been up all night."

" My name is Erika. I am ready for your requests." It was bright in the early evening. I was not accustomed to waking up so early and one of the sisters-in-training was come to wake me. Her pure white habit made the room all the more glaring as I rolled from underneath the covers. If she was frightened, it was only evident in her tremulous lower lip. I brushed off this sign of terror and made myself determined to be polite and hospitable.

" Mother Superior wished to see you."

" Very well, Sister." I followed the girl in silence, tying my hair back with a length of twine I happened upon in my pants pocket. The monastery was in disrepair. The mortar between the bricks was crumbling, the well in the center courtyard dysfunctional. It was apparent that a rusted out hinge was the least of their problems. The sister guided me up the only tower that had not been closed off from fear of danger. At the top, the Mother Superior had her office and bedroom. It was small, but by the standards of the rest of the building, it was luxurious.

" The foundling, Reverend Mother." the little nun pipped from the doorway. I was made to wait in the landing.

" Send her in, Sister Maria" The girl ushered me in with the wave of a hand and I was pointed to a rickety chair. I tested it's strength tentatively and decided to stand rather than sit.

" What is your name, child?" She asked. So far, she wasn't showing any sign of fear. I bowed my head, told her my name and asked of her requests. The Reverend Mother laughed with an Italian's vigor. Her dark olive skin and brown eyes made her rather alluring for someone who was well into her 40's.

" You're very accustomed to acting like a young man, I see." If my face reddened, I was glad that she could not see it.

" That's fine with me." She added with a smile, resting her folded hands on the bulge of her belly. I pressed my lips thin and cleared my throat.

" Erika, it is evident that this monastery is beyond our means repair, so I will not ask that you do much. Just clean up the courtyard everyday and keep things from falling apart too badly until we can find a contractor to fix it up for a small fee."

" I could fix it for you." The Mother Superior eyed me curiously.

" You are experienced with masonry?" I looked up from the floor, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

" I am not trained, no. But, I have read extensively on the subject." She smiled at me, but it was not the type of smile anyone wishes to receive.

" I appreciate your offer, Erika dear, but I need someone with training. Just keep it as tidy as you can and I will assure you a safe place to rest and eat." She had pegged me for a fool, I remember thinking. She had no idea the things I could do. But, I did not wish to anger her and simply decided to let it lie for the time being.

" May I leave the grounds at night?"

" Why not during the day?" she asked earnestly.

" Because, Madame, I am not accustomed to being stared at without getting paid for it." She narrowed her eyes.

" Paid?"

" Yes, Mother. I was a gypsy prisoner for quite some time. I was paid well to show the terror of my face. Now, it would not reap so handsome a reward."

" I understand completely. We lock the doors at dusk, child. Unless you wish to be stranded out of doors at all hours, I suggest you don't venture out."

" I do not mind it."

" Then, do as you wish. But, do not have me worried about you." I gave her a rueful smile.

" Reverend Mother, it is something I don't expect from anyone."

- - - - - - - - - -

I spent many months just doing the bare minimum the sisters asked of me. Eating what they provided, exploring the city at night with hand constantly on the knife at my side, and studying. What compelled me to fix this monastery was something of a mystery to me. I didn't have the greatest of attachments to it. But it's shoddy facade cried for maintenance and care. The sister's lackadaisical attitude towards finding a suitable master mason was almost sickening. I could almost hear the stones crying for help. And so, I asked Brother Salvador for assistance.

" A master mason to train under? But why?"

" This monastery is beyond the capabilities of any commonplace stone layer. It needs care and attention. I have been making notes on everything I've seen. The kitchen roof is moments from caving in and the well is still out of commission. And I can't even begin to think of the western tower and the atrocities it shelters!"

" You think you could repair it? All by yourself?"

" With the proper training, I could get it all done. But, I would like it done in a timely manner, so I would hire some help." The good Brother rubbed his chin absently. I had notice this as an odd quirk of his during our many conversations. He was a good man.

" Well, I do have a very good friend who is a master mason. But, he will not accept anyone for tutelage. Not since his last protégée was killed. The boy had not properly secured a chandelier, and the result was devastating to Leonard. He is near his retirement."

" Give me his address, Signore. I will convince him."

"Erika, it is not wise to disturb one who simply wishes to forget."

" It is not _wise_ to leave a place to crumble down around you!" Salvador was unsure of himself, but eventually gave me what I asked for. My flare for the dramatic has always been a blessed curse.

" I will tell him of your arrival."

" No, don't. I would like to handle this on my own."

" Erika, child-"

" Brother Salvador, believe me. I wouldn't do this if I did not believe that within my heart, I could not." My stubborn attitude wore him down and as the morning broke. He coincided to let me do what I wish. You see, letting me do what I wish is always wise. I can be quite the little beast if I am mistreated. I don't know whom to blame for my temper, but by all rights they should get a medal. A shining reward for my lifetime of misconduct. The good brother left me with a contented smile. In the evening, I would make my offer to Leonard.

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End of this chapter! Hope you liked it. Please review :)

DeMuerte


	6. Stone Layer's Daughter

Sorry for the delay! I had gotten caught up in getting another story on it's feet. Not to worry, I did not forget! :)

Disclaimer: Not mine.

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The maid eyed with an odd disdain. It was as if I had disturbed her from doing something important. But it was her job to answer the door, so what did I care of it?

"This is the residence of Leonard Vittorio." I stated rather than asked.

" Yes. And, what can I do for _you_?" she asked haughtily. I pursed my lips and tensed my knuckles, assuring myself that I could control my temper. I _would_ control my temper.

" If you could tell him that Erika is here, I would be much obliged." Now, I did not know this at the time, but I was told by the Master Mason himself of the conversation that had conspired between them.

" Master, there is a strange...._thing_... at the door who requests an audience with you."

" Thing?" he had asked in muted surprise.

" It appears female, sir, but I cannot be sure that the length of the hair is just from pure neglect. And a mask prevents me from seeing their face."

" Well, did you inquire why this person sought me?" He told me the maid puckered her lips like a house cat would at a whiff of curdled milk. It always made my lips crease in delight when he told that part.

" Well, invite them in." She left him and came to get me.

" Master will see you. Follow me." I followed her through a grand foyer and into a plush study. The interior of the space was rich and well made. It was the loving hand of Vittorio that had placed each stone and stuccoed each wall. I admired the archway as she introduced me. Then, the elderly gentleman I assumed was Vittorio rose from his chair and came forward to shake my hand.

" Thank you, Isabella. You may go back to your chores." The maid curtsied with little grace and shot out of the room like a bat from Hell.

" Please, sit." he intoned. I took up seat by the fire and sat straight-backed. I regarded him with care, my mask inky in the firelight.

" What is your name?" he hummed softly.

" Erika."

" Erika? What a strange name."

" It is the most commonplace thing about me, Signore."

" Are you Norse, perhaps?"

" No, sir. French. The name was pulled out of the air, I'm sure." The old man regarded me with a quizzical manner. I found it rather refreshing. He picked up his cup and enjoyed an extended gulp. I watched as it warmed his innards through his relaxing eyebrows. His old age was obviously catching up to him with unlimited speed.

" What is it you want, my dear?"

" I have been taken in by Our Sister's of the Divine Peace. Their monastery is falling apart around them and I have this...._desire_...to fix it."

" Do you know how?"

" I have been designing buildings since I was 2, Signore."

" But do you know how to build them?" I studied him more closely. There was no pride in his eyes, or amusement. His seriousness had descended as if on a cloud of pestilence, and I remember feeling a strange amount of aggravation for his sudden mood shift. It is so very rare for me to be around people when they are in a good mood.

" I must admit ignorance in that I do not have the tactile skills. But, I would do well with limited instruction and that is why-"

" No." Leonard had risen and turned his back towards me. As he faced the fire, he finished off his drink.

" Signore-"

" I said, NO! Damn it, I will not abide another death!" He rounded on me then, his old age not deterring his imposing size. " If you come from the sisterhood as you say you do, you must be in acquaintance with Brother Salvador, no?"

" We are well acquainted-"

" Then I have no doubt he is the one who told you of me, and the circumstances of my life now?"

"Signore– "

" I will not allow myself to tutor another youth, much less a wisp of a girl with foolish dreams to chase!" His hair stood up as if it had been infused with lighting, his eyes ruddy and opaque. As he towered over me, I still rooted to the spot I had occupied from before, his face grew slack and the rigorous lines of age became less like raging rivers and more like the well-trodden paths of war.

" You have made a mistake, coming here." he moaned, turning toward his chair.

" A mistake?!" I roared, causing him to jolt in surprise, " I _do not_ make mistakes! I am not a chauvinistic old man with a decanter full of regret!"

" No....you are a foolish child asking a man to give what he does not have!" I placed either of my hands on the armrests of his winged chair.

" It is not that you don't have anything to give, you have no will to give it. Signore, I will not beg you, but I will not give up so easily." He averted his eyes from mine, no doubt feeling what he had described to me as " the gravitational pull" they possessed. I never did this with intention, but over the years it has worked to my advantage.

" I will not be bullied into teaching you," he murmured, " I'm old enough to know better."

" You are old enough to retire, and pass on what you have learned to someone who will benefit. Despite yourself, you know I'm right." I moved to leave and he touched my arm, holding me back by my cuff. His eyes were limpid, the brows drooping over his upper lids like an aged hound in the streets. I wanted to pity him, but there was nothing to pity.

" Come back to me in a week's time. I will have your answer then."

I nodded, " Grazie, Signore."

Three days later, I received written word of his acceptance. Two days after that, we went to work. And, I must tell you now, the things we built! I had never felt truly alive until he put a chisel in my hand and said, " Show me." At first there was nothing to show. I balefully stared at a block of stone and sighed.

" Type of stone?" he asked.

" Limestone." I replied curtly. He batted my head with a rolled up copy of the recent paper and tolerated no attitude or sass from anyone.

" Do you know what it is made of? How it reacts to each type of tool? What mortar it bonds to best? These things are the basics. Once you learn that, you can really do something! Until then, you've nothing but castles on clouds."

And thus began Lesson #1.

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End! More to come!

Sincerely,

DeMuerte


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